I carry around a little pocket knife , when its just me and my daughter home. I won't take a nap when my daughter is sleeping aswell because I'm scared someone might take her while im sleeping or threaten to hurt her to make me do things. My mind continuously comes up with bad situations (example-if someone is knocking at the door I get paranoid they might force there way inside and hurt me or my family so ignore it but then I think if I ignore it they might think no ones home and break in ). I feel safe when my partner and everyone is home, but when its bedtime I lay awake and feel like someone's watching me from the windows or is going to break In and kill all of us. When I dose off I wake up scared when I feel my partner is gone and I jump to conclusions he has been dragged away and stabbed but in reality he just goes to the toilet a lot during the night . I usually end up grabbing a knife and putting it safely near me till I finally fall asleep which normally is around 3 in the morning. I feel it's my job to protect my family and if I let my guard down, someone will take their life's away and mine. I try to talk to my partner about it but he just says "stop thinking silly", I'm trying to stop but its not easy. Am I just to paranoid or crazy...

I am notoriously self absorbed, so the idea that others will be able to read what I right tickles me. It more than tickles me, it gratifies me. Right now I am struggling unsuccessfully with a gambling addiction. It goes against the public persona that I have created for me to struggle this way, so I was actually thinking of setting up an alter account for my alter ego on a main blog site. This will work just dandy. Now I get to be my own dirty doppelganger and still be on the downlow with what a #######5 person I am.

----Every new day can change one's life; Every new experience can deepen the realm within ones world. These notions run parallel, to the story of Johnny and The Cupcake Girl----

(Character Background. If looking for eroticism, skip to next chapters.)

Prelude: Aromatic Cupcakes

The sun was beaming through the cracks of the curtains - Johnny woke up, always curious as to what the day would entail. Getting ready for work at the store was a very systematic process for him. Every slight movement, down to the way he dried off his vascular body after a steaming shower, was replicated with exact precision.

Coffee and cigarettes. The fix of the morning, yet today they seemed ever so weak. Bitter sensations on the tongue - Johnny needing something new.. Something sweet.

His inner world was intense. Always maneuvering, always watching - ever changing. Those simpletons who he sped by on the inter-state know no sensation similar to the ones concocted by Johnny's dis-inhibited mind.

Many are curious, but few truly venture. Today was the day, like so many before, that one curious, light-hearted being, would accept any contingencies within coffee shop: The Cupcake Girl. After all, what was life for the young girl without knowledge of the unknown? She was so full of life, full of energy, but being virgin to many experience which she knew exist, felt like a ghost on a winding path.. She was so confused about the world.. People and their intentions.. What she wanted.. What she stood for.. The Cupcake Girl needed something stable - Something definite. Something, to hold on to.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the labyrinth, The Cupcake Girl took the leap of faith that was so intrinsic to her nature, and necessary to develop her ever curious mind regarding that of which she had no experience.

Her name was Pricilla. And she smelled exactly like she looked.

So i've never written a post ever on any forum, ever, and since things have changed for me recently, i'd decide to give this a go. Might not come back to this but i want to get whats in my head out there and see if anyone has anything to say about me and my problems.
My problems: I care about my family too much. I'm almost certain that I have depression, mild anxiety and a myriad of other mental health problems but I've never been properly diagnosed because I care about my family too much to have them worry about me at all. I also come from a culture where mental health is not a 'real' problem, but rather a thing for the weak or the bored.
I think about death a lot BUT i'm not suicidal. I'm fine with death and i'm not scared of it but I would never be able to go through with it as long as my parents are alive because I can't put them through all that pain. If they died though, I would have not much of a reason to keep going, but that is not the point of this post.
I've always been very aware of my issues and i've always been able to talk myself down in my head like there was a third person that tells the two conflicting voices in my head what to do. This third voice sounds like a trusty friend, insightful parent, or even a advising counsellor, when i think about it. This voice knows what people views as normal and suppresses my arguing voices to make me seem 'normal'. It usually takes effort but I know it works because everyone thinks I'm still this smiley, happy girl, which really hasn't been the case since about 7 years ago (when my first encounter of death in the family happened)
My dog (who's been with me for almost 15 years) died yesterday and I was sad but it wasn't a fearful, regretful sadness. It was more of a "i'll miss you" and "we've spent good time together" happy sadness, though it was really sudden and shocking. I still miss him but I don't think I'm doing too bad. My parents on the other hand haven't been able to sleep, eat, not spontaneously cry, and not talk about morbidity every couple of hours. They also hug me a lot because they think its comforting for me, and probably themselves too.
I guess what I'm saying is that is it weird that I'm so aware of what I'm almost sure I have? Does this mean I don't have these mental health issues because it doesn't really affect my daily life and I know what triggers it, how to control it, and what works/doesn't work? Do other people with mental health issues experience this too?
An analogy (if you're still reading): I deal with my problems like dealing with my period. When it starts, I know what I can do to not let it leak out for the world to see. I know what the best way to deal with the dirty pad/tampon is, to chuck it out (feeling all my feelings/non-feelings but in a physical location where no one will see me then throw them out or at least leave them where they can't be seen). I clean up after myself and flush the bloody mess away (make sure no one can physically see or pick out that I have problems at any point of any time)
What do you think?

I was diagnosed with PTSD after a car accident in 2010 (age 25), and was shocked when repressed memories from the past started surfacing without warning. Along with the scenes from the car accident replaying without end, images of an abusive relationship I had been in for three years started playing, a sexual assault by a boyfriend at 19 that I blocked out, a rape I had experienced at age 18 that I COMPLETELY blocked out, emotional and mental abuse from age 11 at the hand of a boyfriend of my mother's, and various bullying events I had sustained from around age 8 through 14. It was entirely overwhelming; for about two months after the accident I spent most of every day in bed, having nightmares when sleeping, waking up screaming thinking whatever I was dreaming about was happening, then having no perception of time when I was awake, being continually trapped in recurring flashbacks that seemed to last for hours when they were really just 10-15 minutes. I sustained serious lumbar spine and nerve injuries that required heavy medication (50mcg fentanyl patches every 3 days, 200mg neurontin daily for nerve pain, 10mg klonopin for panic attacks, 30-50mg oxycodone daily for breakthrough pain, 100-200 mg orphenadrine daily for muscle spasm and opiate potentiation). I could barely muster the energy to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and shower because of the pain, so I stopped eating, lost nearly 25 pounds within a few weeks (I am a 5'5" female and was an active and relatively muscle-toned 130 lbs., so I became underweight and lost a majority of my muscle tone), so coworkers I ran into once when I had to go to my office to sign some insurance paperwork started rumors I was abusing drugs due to my frail and noticeably gaunt appearance. I withdrew almost entirely from my social circle with the exception of a few friends who were so worried abouy my sudden changes they forced me to keep in contact with them. After nearly two full years of weekly psychotherapy, many hurdles, setbacks, tears, angry and violent outbursts, losing my job, and weaning off all the pain medication, I finally got my PTSD symptoms under control in 2012. During this time I was also pursuing my undergraduate degree in psychology, which obviously delayed my studies as I dealt with my illness and injuries. Since then, I have had a very exaggerated startle response that never went away (loud noises or someone approaching me from behind seriously frightens me, causing an immediate panic response). I've had difficulty with controlling or moderating anger, and sometimes respond angrily way out of proportion to the irritant or situation. Social anxiety that I always had got somewhat worse, and depression has been a nearly constant battle also. However, I was able to find a new, better job, and maintain my GPA at 3.85.

Things were going relatively smoothly until this October, where I suddenly experienced a PTSD retriggering event. I did not consciously recognize or want to acknowledge it at first, instead convincing myself that the eerily familiar feelings were just imaginations and nothing serious, until it suddenly dawned on me one day what was happening, about three weeks after the initial retrigger. I began addressing it with my psychologist and the psychiatrist I started seeing right before the retrigger for my depression that was getting out of control in the summer. It just caught me so off guard and has made me feel so powerless again. I keep thinking that no matter how far I get in time from these events, no matter how well I do, these horrible feelings are going to arise at any time and ruin my happiness. I feel that I never truly have felt happiness, and that now I may never know what it is like. It's caused me such horrible thoughts, the suicidal thoughts, the thoughts of giving up on everything, the thoughts of withdrawing into myself, the paranoia that everyone can see through me and thinks I'm pathetic and weak for not being able to just get over it....

[ Continued ]